The Story of A, Tragedy
by Hideki Yuki
Summary: When a thief targets three of Britain's wealthiest banks in a row, L calls upon the greenhorn Near to investigate. Meanwhile, Azuki and Cabra run from Wammy's House to start a new life together.
1. First Contact

The flickering street light cast an eerie glow upon the paved road. A swarm of moths fluttered around the glowing plastic atop the rusting pole.

Hasty footsteps broke the silence. Louder, louder… A figure emerged into the gloomy light, striding purposefully across the street. He grinned as he spied his destination.

THE ROYAL BANK OF ENGLAND

The letters were etched into the age-old stone building. The bank itself stood tall and mighty, its ancient stone pillars out of place aside the modern brick shops.

The man continued his journey. He stepped confidently, his attitude serving in the absence of the height he lacked. Three empty canvas bags bounced on his sides as he walked.

He reached the entrance. If he was intimidated by the towering stone pillars and overpowering architecture, he didn't show it. If anything, it only increased his brazenness. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small ring of keys. His gloved hands muffled the mettalic rattle of the keys banging together.

He selected a key without hesitation and pushed it into the door's keyhole. With an insistent push, the door flew inwards. There were no alarms shrieking into the night. Not tonight. He had arranged for that.

His hands reached towards his belt, feeling for the heavy weight of the flashlight. With the soft _click_of the button, a sudden brilliance illuminated the hall.

The bank's interior was somehow more regal and magnificent than its outer appearance. It had… grandeur. Rows upon rows of desks extended across a great hall. The polished white tiles squeaked upon the intruder's footsteps, his body and face reflected in them. It was a hall fit for a monarch.

The man turned to his right and continued walking, as though he had rehearsed this hundreds of times before. The luminosity of his powerful torch showed him to a second doorway. It was effectively a hunk of steel, but the man didn't falter. Again he reached for his ring of keys, and again the door hinged open obediently.

This is what he had come for.

Before him lay row upon row of doors, each labeled a number with a bronze plaque.

Grinning behind his plastic mask, he pushed the first door on his left the other two, this one wasn't locked. Like the lack of alarms, this was also pre-arranged.

He wasted no time. Piles upon piles of British notes were stacked up on a table before him like a steaming three-course meal. Piles upon piles of British notes found a new home in this man's bag. Stuffing what must have been hundreds of thousands of pounds into _his_ bag, into _his_ possession, felt so… satisfying. It was such a reward for only a few days' planning.

By the time the bank had opened for trading the next day, no traces had been left. As always, the thief left no evidence that a person had even been in the building. Except for the noticeable fact that the British government had lost over four million pounds in a single night.


	2. Near

Cabra sat on the soft, warm carpet. As about half of the Wammy kids didn't bother to use chairs, a substantial amount of money and effort was devoted to keeping this carpet soft and comfortable.

Azuki lay in his loving embrace, her small thirteen-year-old body veiled in a pile of blankets. Cabra stroked her hair, caressed her face. He couldn't get enough of her. He watched her chest rise and fall beaneath the quilts' embrace, slowly, rhythmically. Peacefully.

He ran a soft, warm hand over her face. Through her dyed black hair, as smooth and soft as summer cherries. Over her eyes, as elegant and innocent as two butterflies sitting on a flower in a Summer garden. Her warm nose and her pale cheeks. He touched her small, thin lips, which had met his on so many occasions. He was more familiar with hers as he was his own. How they curved up slightly at the sides, an innocently delectable smile.

Wammy and the other kids had warned Cabra against falling for her. They told him that this sort of romance could never have a blissful ending. They were all wrong, of course, every single one of them. Cabra and Azuki were inseperable. No, more than that. They were one.

Azuki had told Cabra all about herself; she had revealed the details against which she had sworn secrecy upon her arrival at Wammy's House. Azuki had told Cabra of her past, as an only child in Japan.

_Azuki's Japanese father and American mother hadn't fit in with the rest of Tokyo. They were rejected. They weren't given jobs, nor were they allowed friendship. When a mob snuck into the apartment one night and killed Azuki's parents, the infant had nowhere to go, no protection from the world._

_She had been forced to watch as a man ruthlessly cut open her father with a blade, splattering their blood over the meticulously polished walls. She watched as her mother's skull was crushed beneath his boots. She sat in her cot and could only watch as the mob desecrated the house with paint and flame. However, a pair of undoubtedly European hands had hoisted her into the air, out of the house. The last thing she could remember was a cold hand embracing hers, leaving three wrapped candies in her tiny fingers._

One's childhood and the events leading up to one's arrival at the orphanage were forbidden information, to be known solely by the bearer. This was the number one rule of Wammy's House.

An almost inaudible moan escaped Azuki's lips. Her long lashes parted, revealing her deep green eyes. She was vaguely aware of her surroundings; Cabra, who enfolded her in his warm arms. She could see dark outlines of the other children in the room.

Linda, in the corner, sketching something undoubtedly stunning with a set of charcoal pencils. Matt and Mello, their fierce eyes trained on the chess board between them. Keylie sat outside on the grass, visible through the glittering glass window. She grinned as she picked a small yellow flower, twirling it in her hands. Near sat inside, beside the window, hiding from the light behind a colossal Lego structure.

Azuki propped herself up against the wall, still leaning into Cabra's arms. Azuki had always been somewhat of an introvert, preferring her own company over that of the other children. Well, until she met Cabra.

Azuki was woken from her doze as the room's door swung open. Into the room stepped a familiar figure adorning a familiar grin. Wammy!

Despite Roger's occasional presence, Wammy served as the only parent for each of the children. They all seemed to share a certain fondness towards the middle-aged man. The room's occupants all raised their heads, temporarily halting their respective activities for whatever news Wammy served to bring. Even Near put down the plastic blocks in his hand and listened intently.

"Near, L has summoned you."

The children groaned melodically. Near was at the top of the group, towering over the other children in academic ability. He was always the first option for L's various special tasks. His peers offered their companionship, but it was as though he were afraid to get too close.

"Very well." He spoke so quietly the words were almost lost. He ducked down behind his immense lego tower, then stood and slouched across the room. His arms were packed with toy planes, model robots, and even a small set of finger puppets.

Wammy stood back to allow Near through, then closed the wooden door behind him.


	3. Liberation

Near entered the bare, dark room. He could barely see the floorboards that creaked with every step, the four white walls with no decoration.

A white laptop sat open in the middle of the room, its bleak glow illuminating the cold ground. The screen was white, save for a large, bold letter in the center of the screen.

L

Near knelt in front of the screen and began to re-enact a violent and gruesome battle with his figurines. Just as a robot was blasted to shreds by a pink and blue jet plane, a synthetic voice broke the silence.

"N. This is L."

For a few moments, Near continued playing, paying no heed to the century's greatest detective.

"You've summoned me," he said finally.

L wasted no time in his explanation. "You have probably realized that I'm currently in England. Last night, four million pounds in bills were lost by the Bank of England. Assuming it was a robbery, the criminal left no trace of his presence."

"Yes he did," replied Near.

"Please elaborate." L was curious to see if N had any information that the police had omitted from their reports.

"Four million pounds are gone."

Silence.

"N," began L. Even the computerized voice showed a hint of a smile at Near's joke. "I'm placing you on the case. On this computer you will find the case files so generously donated by the Police, as well as some of Watari's own photographs and sketches. Contact me when you finish."

Near stretched out on the rigid floor and reached over to touch the mousepad. Opening one file after another, Near absorbed every piece of information collected by law enforcement in regards to the robbery in less than a minute.

His fingers felt for the small pad of buttons next to the keyboard. He pressed one.

"Watari," said the voice on the other side.

"This is Near. Please bring me a futon."

The heavy door swung open with a sigh.

"Good morning, Near." Watari removed his black hat, revealing the silver hair that marked his age.

"Watari," replied Near, not even turning to face his guardian.

"I thought you might be hungry, so I had Brisla prepare a meal."

Watari stepped over to where Near lay and placed the plastic tray on the floor next to him.

Near grunted a barely audible "thanks".

As the door swung closed behind Watari, Near glanced down at the tray beside him. Two thick slices of bread, lightly toasted and dusted with icing sugar. Three small slivers of peach lay atop each one. A glass of orange juice dampened a small ring in the folded newspaper below it.

Near picked up the cool glass and downed the sweet juice in three mouthfuls, grateful for the sugar on his tongue. As he reached down to return the glass, a bold headline on the paper caught his eye.

**GHOST THIEF STRIKES AGAIN**

If Near was startled, he didn't show it. He lifted the small plate of scones and placed it on the floor. With one hand he lifted the newspaper and read the article.

"What is this place?" Azuki's eyes took a few moments to adjust to the bright surroundings as Cabra removed his hands. They slid down her side and found her warm fingers, as Azuki took in the room.

The couple stood in an enormous room, the biggest Azuki had ever seen. A long, extravagant table stretched off to Azuki's right. Covered with a spotless white table cloth, the great dining table was lined with at least fifty polished wooden chairs on either side.

Dozens of large doors decorated the opposite wall. They were all identical, but far more exorbitant than anything upon which Azuki had laid her pair of deep green eyes. The wooden frames were polished so thoroughly that Azuki could see the reflection of her own face from the other side of the hall. The handles were crystal prisms, casting rainbows onto the violet carpet beneath them.

"Cabra…" Azuki turned on her heel, falling into his soft arms.

"I bought this mansion with my parents' inheritance. I convinced Watari to let me have it before I leave."

Azuki was lost for words in the beauty of it all.

"Run away with me. Leave that despicable orphanage and live here with me."

Cabra stared into her eyes. He stroked her dyed hair. His hand ran down her chest as he embraced her.

Azuki's voice was almost lost. Her lips met Cabra's. She recognized the way they curved, the way they transformed into his cheeks, his neck.

"I will," she whispered.


	4. Visitor

"Thank you for this information," said Near. He released the button and sighed.

A third robbery. On the third night. He wondered how L did it. How could he keep his reputation for solving _every_ case, if he continuously tackled cases like this? Three robberies in three nights, and not a scrap of evidence to show for it. The only thing he'd heard about that had any similarity to this was the Los Angeles BB Murder Case.

But that was different. The perpetrator was _from Wammy's House_, an equal with L. One of the most intelligent people on the planet. But these robberies couldn't possibly have been caused by Matt, or Linda, or Cabra…

The door creaked open and revealed Watari's tall figure.

"Yes, Watari?" Asked Near, angry for the intrusion.

"Near," began the elderly man, clearing his throat. "This note was found beside Cabra's bed this morning."

Near took the scrap of paper, recognizing the boy's messy scrawl.

_Azuki and I have decided to live together. This is farewell. Don't try to find us; it will only end in misery. My thanks is extended to Watari for the education and hospitality._

_- Cabra_

Near handed the snippet back to Watari.

So Cabra left Wammy's House. That clinches it.

Azuki lay on the soft, white bed sheets, gazing up at the high ceiling. Her hands ran lazily over Cabra's bare torso.

"I'll get some water," whispered Azuki, pressing her lips to her boyfriend's cheek. "Stay right here."

She stood up and pulled on a large, red robe.

As she descended the length of the grand staircase towards one of the several kitchens, she thought she heard voice.

No. It must have been her imagination.

But as she stepped over the threshold, Azuki noticed a small figure crouched over the clean, white floor. A small assortment of plastic toys were spread out at Azuki's feet.

"Near! What are you doing here?" She was astounded that she'd been located at all, let alone so quickly. And why Near, of all people? The two did occasionally exchange polite small talk, but there friendship hadn't ever amounted to anything.

"Under L's instruction, I've been chasing a bank robber who has failed to leave a scrap of evidence at the scene." Near talked at the floor, as though he were not paying any attention to the teenage girl at all.

Azuki tried to force some words out of her throat, but her mouth was as dry as sandpaper.

Near looked up. "I know whom it is. Watari has agreed to let you leave the orphanage on the condition that you assist me in the capture of the culprit. The fact that I was able to find you in the space of several hours and enter this humble abode without your knowledge should provide a big enough incentive."

"Well," began Azuki, finally finding her feet. "What do you want me to do?"

"You needn't do anything. In fact, I only want you to be at a certain building tonight at midnight. You are not to tell Cabra of this. If you are there at midnight tonight, you and your partner are free to leave Wammy's House as you had planned."


	5. Spring

Tonight was to be the last night. He had gone uncaptured for so long, and tonight's winnings would bring his wallet up to a total of ten million dollars. It seems an exorbitant price for a few nights' work.

The man stepped into the dark building, as he had done so many times before. Like someone who had come here every day for their life, he stepped across the polished blue floor and into the room of vaults.

The key was already in the golden hole, exhaling a soft click as the man turned it in his gloved fingers.

He grinned as the door hinged open obediently. But what sat before him startled him.

In place of the piles and piles of bank notes waiting to be stuffed into a canvas bags, only one thing sat atop the table inside the room.

A white laptop sat open on the silver bench. The screen was lit entirely white, save for a single black letter in the center.

N

He stared, startled. His brain tried to process a million thoughts at a time. The only one that got through informed him politely of the round camera atop of the screen.

Azuki stared, relaxed in a large chair. At least a dozen screens covered the wall in front of her. She wasn't sure what Near wanted from her.

She heard footsteps behind her. "Each of these screens shows live feed from inside the vault of each bank in the city. Presuming the thief strikes again tonight, this is a great chance to get him on camera."

Azuki's eyes flicked to a screen on the right, second from the bottom. Movement.

The door swung open, and a tall figure stepped through it. The teenager was wearing a black mask, but Azuki immediately noticed the curls of blonde hair that escaped it. She recognized the dark jacket that the man wore; she had bought it for him.

"Cabra…"


	6. Rope

_I just… I can't go on. Cabra, my world, had left the orphanage for me. Me. I told him that I'd die if he left me. He assured me again and again that he'd never leave._

_That just shows how reliable he was in the end._

_Near said that he's still alive, locked up in a dark cell in some building on the other side of the country, to repent for his actions. But it's too much for me._

_How am I to live without his gentle touch, his caressing lips?_

_Whoever finds this note, please make sure that bastard Near gets a chance to read it. To realize what he's done. To realize that he's killed me._

_- Azuki_

The paper fluttered to the ground, dotted pale red. It hit the cold, bare floor below a pair of hanging feet. The small soles swung in motion with the rope that wrapped around the owner's neck in a sick embrace.


End file.
